


Call Call

by carolion



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-31
Updated: 2011-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 06:56:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolion/pseuds/carolion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Archie calls while Cook is, uh, occupied.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Call

Cook's hands were shaking a little. Not a lot; they were just a quavering a little, probably from amount of coffee he'd had to drink this morning. Okay, so it was his average amount, but maybe it all just caught up with him. It certainly had nothing to do with David Archuleta, or the new photos that were being spammed across the internet like crazy, or the fact that he'd just bought something like twenty seven copies of 'Something Bout Love' on iTunes.

He refused to check the iTunes charts, not because he was nervous, or anxious or anything, just because those things were dumb. (Though his twitter feed kept joyfully proclaiming: "#64 on Pop! #100 on Top! #51 on Pop!" and he couldn't avoid those, of course not. Never mind the fact that he had #SomethingBoutLove open in a separate window, watching the hashtag rack up tweets.)

He felt sort of weird and excited and it didn't even make sense. He put 'Something 'Bout Love' on repeat and nervously rubbed his palms against his jeans, unsure exactly why they felt so damp. Cook had - Cook always loved Archie, completely supported him, 100%. It was - who didn't like Archie? The guy was _awesome_ , funny and endearing and kind and kick-ass. And he had a killer voice. And if Cook maybe looked a little longer than he was supposed to, or spent night composing text messages that never got sent, or had inappropriate fantasies that starred David Archuleta... Well, those were private. He wasn't going to act on it - that would be wrong. (His heart ached and twisted, because he _missed_ Archie. He missed talking to him, making him laugh, seeing his smile live, in person, all mega-watt and brilliant.)

So Cook acknowledged that he maybe, okay, he _definitely_ had a thing for David Archuleta. And after some serious reflection, he decided it was okay, as long as he didn't ever jump the kid, or whatever. (Because it was _wrong_. Cook could never - it didn't matter.) But this new photoshoot? The single cover had been a struggle in and of itself, Archie's soulful eyes and flawless skin, and long hair, perfect for tugging. But this photo? This 'not final artwork' - it was seriously testing Cook's willpower.

He groaned and leaned back in his computer chair, stretching out his spine, which was cramping from being in one position for so long. Archie's voice and dance-pop-whatever beat poured out of the speakers and it made Cook want to slide his hand along his thigh, maybe angle it up and rub a little - Jesus Christ, _no._

He was _aching_ though.

Cook let his head drop a little, and stared at the screen, where Archie was grinning back at someone beyond the shoot. He was suddenly irrationally jealous of whoever was on the receiving end of _that_ smile, because that smile was real, not the awkward, half-nervous, half-uncomfortable grin Archie flashed the cameras so often. Damn it, Archie should smile at _him_ like that more often. (He has forgotten, momentarily, that Archie _does_ smile like that at him. Joyful, and pure, and excited. It's just been so long - way too long.)

The jealousy made his stomach curl up with possessiveness, a hot thread of desire and arousal coiling there, burning him. Cook clenched one of fists reflexively, and stared. Archie was _fit_. Sure, Cook had been working out a lot more lately too, and his chest was getting more defined, and his legs were more in shape, but Archie had always been pretty active, and Cook knew he tried to eat well, despite the many, many goodies he received from fans on tour. It really paid off. Archie was sleek and lean and gorgeous, and Cook can imagine wrapping his hands around Archie's waist and feeling the muscles flex and jump beneath his touch.

He moaned, involuntarily, the sound surprising him. It was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back, because Cook thought _fuck it_ , and hurried to unbutton his pants.

Now that he wasn't trying so hard to keep his mind out of the gutter, it was like the flood-gates had opened. Archie's _mouth_ , Christ, open and pink and bitten and wrapped around his cock, yeah, it would be amazing, especially because the teenager would look up at Cook, or touch his thigh hesitantly, wondering if he was doing it right, and Cook would sink a hand into his hair and _pull_ -

Cook groaned and stroked his erection, hard and fast, no mercy. His body hummed, and he could feel phantom hands trailing up his sides, across his back, tickling his neck. He opened his eyes, his breathing already heavy (it had been coming in pants since he'd first seen the picture, if he was being honest), focusing on how Archie's body curved in the chair. Cook realized, suddenly, how badly he wanted to push that chair over, spilling Archie onto the ground, covering him with his own body, grind down onto the boy, _hold him by his wrists_ -

The phone rang - 'Crush' mingled with 'Something 'Bout Love' and Cook bit out a _"Fuck!"_ because of course Archie would call him, of course, right then, right when Cook was imagining biting down on his long, graceful neck and sucking dark, obvious marks into the skin...

His hand tightened reflexively around his cock, and he choked out a moan, but his other hand reached blindly for the phone.

He was a pervert. He was a bad, bad man, but this was so, so good, so he thumbed the 'Accept Call' button at the same time he thumbed the head of his dick and just barely managed to get out a "Hey Archie!" without sounding too weird, or too much like he was jerking himself off while on the phone with the current reason he was jerking off.

He was going to Hell.

"Oh my gosh, Cook! Hi! I hope I'm not interrupting anything, um, they wouldn't let me call you straight away, haha, and besides you were probably asleep, um, it was really early this morning, and I'm in Utah? Oh, but, Cook, I just wanted to, um, check in? Did you hear the single? I'm so excited. I'm like, overwhelmed."

Archie's voice, his _real_ voice, his talking voice, made Cook have to reach down and grip the base of his erection hard, just to keep from coming. He sounded shy and excited and nervous, all at once, his gaspy breaths more of a turn on than Cook had originally realized. He stifled a groan (and ignored the concerned, "Cook? Are you okay?" that followed it) and took a moment to gain some control before answering, as naturally as he could.

"Of course I heard the single!" He laughed out, trying not to wince at how low and rough his voice sounded. It was his sex-growl, he knew (or at least that's what his previous partners had called it), and he just hoped it didn't freak Archie out too much. "I've got it on repeat!" _My personal porno soundtrack_ , he thought helplessly, then shivered and returned to slowly stroking his dick, the slide easier now, slicker, though his erection felt even heavier in his palm than before.

"You - you do not!" Archie stuttered, then laughed a little too. Cook closed his eyes and splayed his thighs out more, biting his lip and reminding himself not to make any noise, because if he was going to be a pervert, he could damn well do it in silence, and not alienate the one person who made him feel all weird and giddy and hot and horny. He could almost imagine that Archie was sitting, straddling his lap, and that it was _his_ hand that was wrapped around his cock, and maybe Archie would be naked, and Cook could lean forward and suck a nipple into his mouth, licking and teasing it until it was hard and pointed and Archie was whining. Then Archie could grip both their cocks in one hand, and he could jerk them both off at the same time, his hips canting forward and these little mewling sounds coming from his mouth, until Cook was forced to wrap a hand around Archie's neck and haul him forward for a kiss.

"Yeah I do," Cook growled out, his eyes dark and smoky. He'd given up the pretense of trying to be normal. This wasn't normal. _He_ wasn't normal. His breath hitched, and he heard Archie's breathing change a little through the line.

"Cook?" Archie asked, in this small, quiet, tentative voice. Cook shivered.

"You've come a long way Archuleta," Cook said, his voice shaking, dark and raspy, on the edge of control. Archie started to say something, then cut himself off. Cook's body shuddered - god he was close, so fucking close. He needed to hear him though, god, it was so good. His hips were thrusting up a little now, and he was fairly sure he was making little whining noises in the back of his throat, but he had no idea if Archie's could hear them or cared or knew what was happening.

"Talk to me," he begged, "tell me about the album, please Arch." He lost all sense of rhythm or style, so focused on the slick slide of his palm against his dick, the way his fingers tightened and loosened, how he gripped at the top, sliding his thumb back and forth against the head. He wanted Archie's mouth against his, kissing him breathless, wanted to pin his friend to the bed, push his thighs up, lick up his cock, he wanted _everything_.

"I - I - I can't. I can't, um, talk about it. Some sort of, uh, c-clause. _Cook._ " Archie's voice sounded weird and high, and he was gasping now, and it went _straight_ to his gut, and suddenly his whole body was on fire, and he wanted Archie to sound like that _all the time_ , and always because of _him_.

"I don't care," Cook said roughly, trying not to groan out Archie's name, "talk to me, what are you feeling, say my _name_ ," and, oh, shit, that was totally crossing a line right there. Shit shit shit, Cook thought, but he just needed a little more, a little more -

"Oh gosh, Cook, I- I- I want to be in LA," Archie blurted out, "I feel - weird. My - it's really hot here. And, and, I'm excited, and nervous, and I _miss_ you, Cook," the broken speech, the word 'hot', and the pure _longing_ in Archie's voice, coupled with that soft, lilting 'Cook' was all it took.

Cook turned his chin and mouth into his shoulder, still holding the phone against his ear, listening to Archie's rapid breathing and his soft little 'oh!' of surprise, since Cook must have made some noise (had to have, despite muffling as best he could). His orgasm washed through him in a wave, and the emotions crashed through him at the same time. He sobbed a little at how good it felt, how perfect and right, the white-hot flash of nothing but pleasure and _Archie_. His heart shivered in his chest, and he milked out the last of his orgasm, sighing and whining a little, completely blissed out. His hand was disgustingly sticky, and his pants were a mess, but -

"Cook?" Archie was still on the line. Cook's body went hot with shame.

"Yeah. I'm," he cleared his throat, wondering if Archie was going to talk to him about it, or if he was just going to hang up and never speak to him again. His throat felt tight and thick. "I'm still here." There was an awkward pause, and Cook sighed. "Listen, I've gotta go-"

"No!" Archie's voice was desperate. "No, um, please don't go. I-" Cook listened, his body tense. "I may need, um, I need some help."

Cook's mouth went dry.

"Cook? Can you, um, talk to me?" And Archie was making a soft little noise, and there was clearly some movement going on because Cook could hear the slide of fabric, and Cook's brain short-circuited for a minute before catching up because, _what the hell_ and also _oh Jesus Christ yes please, please, please._

"Yeah Arch," he said, the growl back in his voice, "I'll talk to you."


End file.
